


I Can't Be Your Friend

by chochowilliams



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Angst, Dream Sequence, Hentai, Infidelity, Language, M/M, Romance, Slash, Unclear Scene Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chochowilliams/pseuds/chochowilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiro has always harbored feelings for his best friend and he finally has a chance to express them…or does he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Be Your Friend

**I Can’t Be Your Friend**  
 **One-shot**  
 **Written by:** chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:** Hiro has always harbored feelings for his best friend and he finally has a chance to express them…or does he?  
 **Warning:** M/M, Language, Hentai, Reference to Sexual Acts, Romance, Angst, Dream Sequence, Infidelity, Unclear Scene Change, OOC-ness, Language  
 **Pairings:** one-sided Hiro/Shuichi, Shuichi/Eiri  
 **Inserts:** “I Can’t Be Your Friend” by Cascada  
 **A/N:** This in no way endorses Hiro/Shuichi.

* * *

 

_You can run to me_   
_You can laugh at me_   
_Or you can walk right out that door_   
_But I can't be your friend anymore_   
_So baby, now it's up to you_   
_Do I win or do I lose_   
_Will my heart fly or lie broken on the floor_   
_Well, take me as I am_   
_Cause I want you to be my man_

- **“I Can’t Be Your Friend”, Cascada**

* * *

 

NG Productions appeared deserted.

In the cafeteria, half eaten sandwiches, cups of coffee and tea gone cold sat on the tables. Jackets hung forgotten on the back of chairs and draped across the seats. Bags sat on the floor besides chairs that were suspiciously pulled away from the tables. Hats and sunglasses were scattered around the room.

In the lobby, the computer was still on, the white icon blinking insistently against a black background. The phone lay off the hook, a loud unrelenting beeping sound buzzing from the receiver.

The offices of the executives were abandoned in the same fashion.

The only life in the building was an elevator on the third floor that dinged. The doors opened. Out stepped a young man who appeared quite young for his age. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt with the front zipper open halfway under a black leather jacket. Baggy jeans were cinched at the small waist by a belt. A black leather jacket and black calf high boots completed the outfit. The leather of the jacket squeaked and the boots echoed loudly in the deserted hall. A hat was pulled low over his face, shielding his face from view. His hair was tucked up into the cap and dark sunglasses hid his eyes.

He strutted down the corridor, ignoring the conference rooms where chairs were pulled away from the tables. Files were lying open and papers scattered everywhere, as if a wind had blown through the room. The lights in various rehearsal rooms and recording studios were on, instruments plugged in and waiting patiently.

At the end of the hall, the “recording” light was on above a closed door. The man headed straight towards that door confidently. Without bothering to knock or wait until the all clear signal was given, the man reached out with a manicured hand and opened the door. It swung open noiselessly. He stepped into the room and closed the door just as silently behind him. Crossing the room, he stared through the window into the sound booth at a man whose back was to him. The red head was standing before a microphone and slipping a pair of headphones on. Moments later, the silence of the recording studio was shattered by the smooth, melodious tones of the man in the sound booth.

“You can run to me/You can laugh at me/Or you can walk right out that door/But I can't be your friend anymore.”

Fingers tapped a pant leg and a head bopped to the fast, synthesized beat that only he could hear.

**…you to be my man**   
**But I can't be your friend anymore**   
**And it's killin' me to know you**   
**Without havin a chance to hold you**   
**And all I wanna do is show you**   
**How I really feel inside**   
**You can run to me**   
**You can laugh at me**   
**Or you can walk right out that door**   
**But I can't be your friend anymore**   
**And it's killin' me to know you**   
**Without havin a chance to hold you**   
**And all I wanna do is show you**   
**How I really feel inside**   
**You can run to me**   
**You can laugh at me**   
**Or you can walk right out that door**   
**But I can't be just friends anymore**

The music ended and dead silence filled the studio. Hiro slipped off the headphones and hooked them around the microphone stand. His chest felt tight and an ache gripped his heart. He hung his head. The muscles around his mouth twitched as he fought back his tears.

The lyrics said it all. “I Can't Be Your Friend” was a song he wrote about his best friend, a man he was deeply in love with.

They have been friends for as long as he can remember. He did not even remember when or how they met. It was all a blur. It was as they have always been together.

He was not sure when his feelings of friendship turned into something more, but he gradually found himself thinking about Shuichi more and more, wondering what Shuichi was doing when they were not together. He would hear a joke or an amusing story and catch himself remembering to tell Shuichi the next time he saw him. He looked forward to when he would next see his friend. He would even masturbate while thinking about Shuichi. When he was having sex, Shuichi's face would pop in his head when he climaxed. When he was with Shuichi, he was happier than he was when he was not with Shuichi. It was like exchanging a fifty-watt light bulb for a hundred-fifty watt bulb. That was how much of a difference Shuichi made in his life. Shuichi was the kind of person that could turn a frown upside down.

If asked, he would not be able to say specifically what it was that drew him to the pink haired singer. It was a million different things; his giggle, his unwavering dedication to the band, his amazing voice and his dogged optimism. It was those vividly violet eyes. It was that soft, gentle touch that made his pulse react and the breath against his cheek that had his heart skipping a beat.

At first, Hiro had been unsure why he was feeling the way that he was, why his body reacted the way it did to his best friend, someone who had always been like a brother to him, but then one day, he thought, “Could this be…love?” Once he became aware of his feelings, they snowballed.

His love for his best friend was a double-edged sword. Admitting his true feelings for Shuichi to himself was a liberating feeling, but at the same time, those same feelings left him feeling trapped because he was supposed to be Shuichi's best friend. He was not supposed to think of Shuichi in a sexual manner. Shuichi was supposed to be able to trust him. How could you trust someone who had lustful thoughts of you? Besides, at the time, he believed that--despite the fact that Shuichi at times acted quite feminine--Shuichi was not open to homosexual relationships. The thought of seeing Shuichi's face contorted in disgust--of Shuichi hating him, was almost too much for him to bear. So Hiro remained silent, thinking that just being near Shuichi was enough. Staying by his side and remaining--more like pretending to be--Shuichi’s best friend was better than nothing, hoping his feelings would gradually fade into feelings of friendship one day, but he had been wrong. His feelings for his best friend had only grown stronger.

He was in love with Shindou Shuichi so much it hurt. He hated to see the pain Shuichi endured from that cold, stoic bastard Yuki Eiri. He was tired of Shuichi showing up on his doorstep sobbing hysterically, his face contorted into a mask of misery. He could not handle having the man he loved in his arms and knowing he was not his. He hated knowing what Shuichi and Eiri did every night together, hating seeing pictures of them in the tabloids. He did not like any reminders of Japan's famous gay couple, hated it because he should be Shuichi's soul mate. He should be the one Shuichi wrote songs about. Dammit! It should be him! Not that--that bastard!

That was why he wrote this song. He was not sure what he was going to do with it. It was just a way of getting his feelings off his chest. He could lock it away in a safe, never to see the light of day again or give it to Shuichi.

Frankly, he has harbored these feelings for so long; he was not sure what he would do if he were ever confronted about them. Part of him did not want to ever tell Shuichi. As much as he hated it, Shuichi and that damn lover of his were perfect for one another. They needed one another. Despite the hellish rollercoaster that was their relationship, Shuichi still loved that bastard. Hiro would rather stay quiet and keep Shuichi as a friend, then confess and get blown off.

A sudden noise from behind startled him. “Who's there?” he demanded, spinning around, his heart in his throat.

A figure stepped out of the shadows wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. The man removed his hat to reveal spiked neon pink hair and slid off the sunglasses. Violet eyes stared back at him.

“Shuichi,” Hiro gasped, his eyes widening in surprise and fright. He felt his face grow hot in embarrassment. God, I hope he did not hear that song! Licking suddenly dry lips, Hiro gulped. His palms grew slick with sweat. “How--how long were you standing there?” he asked quietly.

Shuichi stepped forward. “Long enough,” he purred.

“What are you doing here?” Hiro asked, trying to calm down. “I thought you were going on vacation with Yuki-san this weekend?”

“I was,” Shuichi said as he sashayed towards Hiro. His movement's were liquid grace and almost feline. He watched his friend in mild amusement as a look of fright crossed Hiro's face.

Hiro gasped at the un-Shuichi-like expression on his friend’s face and backed up into the wall. He gulped nervously. “Uhm,” he stuttered. “Then why-?” His eyes widened in surprise and shock as Shuichi captured his lips with his own. His hands convulsed at his sides, unsure what to do. His mind was spinning. Shuichi was kissing him!

Shuichi pulled away from him. “Because I realized something,” he whispered, his lips hovering above his.

“What?” Hiro trembled. God, he wanted to ravish Shuichi right here and now, but he knew it was not right.

Shuichi rose up on his toes and breathed in Hiro's ears, “I want you.”

Hiro gasped.

Shuichi captured his lips again.

He knew Shuichi would never return his feelings; that he would forever be in love with Yuki-san. Even if his feelings for the man by some miracle changed, it was not right to jump head first into another relationship right away. While Hiro's mind kept screaming this was not right, his libido yelled at it to shut the fuck up and told him to take this once in a lifetime opportunity. How many people get the chance to make love to the person they cared about? He felt his eyes close and knew his libido had won the argument. He could feel it dancing with excitement.

He clasped Shuichi's hips and pulled the smaller man against him roughly, as he deepened the kiss. The strong pull of lust and arousal swept through both men as they ate hungrily at one another's mouth. Shivers of intense pleasure jolted through their bodies. Hiro slid one hand down Shuichi’s back to squeeze the pert globes of Shuichi's ass as his other hand slid between Shuichi’s legs and cupped the throbbing heat between them.

Shuichi moaned and thrust his hips into the hand cupping him. Tearing his mouth away from Hiro's, he tossed his head back with a loud cry as Hiro squeezed his throbbing member. He opened his mouth as teeth nipped at his bottom lip. He caressed the object that snaked into his mouth with his tongue and shivered at the sensation. He let Hiro explore his mouth, loving the feeling of his best friend’s tongue as it brushed around his mouth.

Hiro lifted Shuichi up, Shuichi immediately hugging his legs around Hiro’s waist. Hiro flipped them around and slammed Shuichi against the wall. He then attacked Shuichi's mouth, kissing him hard and demanding, as if he would crawl inside. Shuichi pulled out the band that held Hiro's hair back and fingered the long locks as the guitarist left a trail of kisses along his jaw and down his neck. He moaned as Hiro sucked and nipped at his neck. Shuichi tipped his head to the side, allowing Hiro to have better access. Hiro pressed his too tight jeans against the hardened bulge digging into him, rolling and flexing his hips. It earned him an erotic cry from his young lover.

Shuichi cried out.

Hiro’s lips pulled at his partner’s swollen ones. He ran his tongue along them. When the mouth opened willingly, Hiro attacked the damp cavern. He sucked and lapped at Shuichi's mouth with a groan. Shuichi was like a drug. He could not get enough, could not delve deep enough. He groped the singer's behind. Their tongues wrestled. Their lips and teeth abused each other.

The need to bury himself in the smaller man was almost too much. He tore at his jeans, sighing in relief as he freed himself. Then he ripped Shuichi's jeans open and yanked them down his narrow hips. Lifting the younger man, he situated Shuichi above his rigid member and with a flex of his hips, rammed himself into the tight passage.

Shuichi arched away from the wall, threw his head back and screamed as a jolt of pain ripped through him. He clawed at Hiro's back and clamped down around the large invader inside of him. Tears trickled down his face.

Hiro groaned, thrusting deeper into his lover in response.

He pulled out slowly until only the head remained and thrust back into him, causing Shuichi to cry out. He pushed himself inside as fast and hard as he could. Shuichi screamed but did not tell him to stop so Hiro did not. He continued his thrusts, using all the years pent-up frustration. He buried himself deep within his lover, pushing in as far as he could go. Soon, the room was filled with loud vocal cries and the sharp slap of flesh on flesh.

Muscles tightened as warmth spread through both males. With one final thrust, Hiro climaxed, releasing his seed as he buried himself deeply within his lithe lover and let out a deep cry, echoed by another as legs tightened around his waist and a white spray enveloped them both.

Panting heavily, Shuichi collapsed boneless-ly against him, like putty in Hiro's arms. Feeling as if his heart was about to explode, Hiro sagged onto the floor, still attached to his lover. He cradled the singer to him, hugging him tightly as tears flowed silently down his cheeks.

This had been a dream come true for him. He was going to cherish this moment for the rest of his life. He did not care what the consequences were. Yuki-san could hunt him down and beat him into a pulp. Seguchi-san could fire him. This could turn out to be a one-time event, never to be spoken about again after this. He did not care because his greatest wish had been fulfilled.

He had a sudden urge to tell Shuichi how he truly felt about him. And before he lost his nerve, he breathed, “Shuichi.”

“Hm,” the pink haired singer sighed, as he snuggled against him.

“There's something…” Hiro was not sure if he could go through with this. He suddenly felt self-conscious.

“What?” Shuichi prodded softly.

Hiro took a deep breath, deciding it was better to just get it over with than dawdle. “Iloveyou,” he rushed. His confession was met with silence. The silence was deafening. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears, felt his pulse racing and his heart beating against his ribcage.

Shuichi pulled back and cupped Hiro's face between his small hands. He smiled tenderly at his friend, his face soft. “And I,” he said gently, “…don't.”

With a loud gasp, Hiro's eyes flew open. He stared at the white ceiling with wide unfocused eyes as confusion swirled around him. Breathing a sigh, he closed his eyes and draped an arm across his eyes.

A dream.

He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Fuck,” he sighed, letting his hands fall to his sides. Sitting up, he swung his legs off the couch and threaded his fingers through his hair.

A sudden chiming echoed through the apartment, startling him. Glancing up at the clock, he realized for the first time just how late it was. As he pushed himself off the couch, his eyes landed on the open notebook on the coffee table. He reached down and closed it, but not before he read what was printed at the top of the page, “I Can't Be Your Friend”.

Straightening, Hiro walked out of the living room and down the hall to his bedroom.

Shuichi pried open a tired eye as he heard the bedroom door open and close silently. Sighing, he flipped over onto his back. Yawning loudly, he rubbed his grit-filled eyes. He glanced at the alarm clock. It was past midnight. He turned and watched silently as his partner approached the bed.

“You still awake?” asked the gruff voice.

“Mmm. Couldn't sleep,” Shuichi whispered. His voice was thick with sleep.

“Baka,” chuckled the voice from the darkness of the room.

Shuichi felt the bed dip as his lover sat down on the edge of the bed. The bed jostled slightly and there was a rustling of sheets as said lover settled himself.

“You shouldn't spend so much time on the computer Eiri,” Shuichi said. “It's not good for your eyes.”

Eiri snorted. “What are you, an optometrist?”

“I'm just worried about you, that's all,” Shuichi ‘humphed’ as he scooted across the mattress and wrapped himself around his lover's waist. He yawned loudly.

“I know,” Eiri whispered, kissing his partner's head. He draped an arm around Shuichi and held close.

Shuichi sighed snuggled against Eiri. “I love you.”

Eiri smiled in the darkness. “I know,” he whispered. “'Night, Shu-chan.”

“Night, Eiri.”

Eiri closed his eyes and listened as his partner drifted off to sleep.

 

**…The End**

 

**A/N:** The scene change was deliberately left to be confusing, so was it?

 


End file.
